Four Flowers Part One: Iris
by Ms Slaughter
Summary: RE-WRITING. First of Four Short Stories: Iris is for Lamias.
1. Never

Four Flowers Part One: Iris

_Never allow humans to gain knowledge of the Night World's existence_

* * *

Chapter One:

* * *

Sara Desrosiers never thought of herself as brave, no one could accuse her of being anything other than average, at sixteen she was a small and unassuming, _under the radar,_ and it was how she liked it.

Mia Carmichael sat cross-legged in Sara's her swivel chair, twirling in lazy circles until her head began to spin. "Keith." She sighed.

A fringe tickled Sara's forehead and she moved the strands out of her eyes with impatient motions. "Keith?" She recoiled as the name cemented the image of the consummate creep in her mind. "Where did you meet him?"

Mia smiled up at her showing a perfect row of teeth. "The Devil's Claw."

"Mia-"

"Sara." Mia said with a weighty sigh puffing past her lips. "He's absolutely perfect and he says he loves me." She declared unperturbed, Mia was a girl desperate to fall in love, she saw it in every winning smile and in every whiff of aftershave.

"When did you meet him?"

"Yesterday."

"And let me guess…" Sara put a finger on her chin in a sarcastic pose. "He's a musician?"

"How did you know?"

"I must be psychic." Sara smiled blithely and adjusted her Buddy Holly glasses on the bridge of her nose.

Mia jumped out of her chair and grasped Sara's arm pulling her to her feet in the middle of her bedroom. "We're going out tonight." She declared.

White-hot panic infused Sara Desrosiers. "I can't." She clasped her hands together to disguise her trembling fingers.

Mia's fingertips dug into Sara's arm. "Please, Sara."

"There's no way you're getting me to The Devil's Claw."

"Please, Sara."

Sara pushed her fringe back impatiently from her eyes and her eyes flew wildly from one end of the room to another as she mumbled. "I have a ton of calculus homework and besides my parents would kill me if they ever knew-"

"So would mine." Mia asserted and leaned her head against Sara's arm, blinking up at her. "He's bringing a friend along."

"Oh please, spare me."

"His name is Jerôme and he plays guitar." As if the guitar were a kind of compelling totem but Sara Desrosiers was terrified of public displays, horrified by the thought of dozens of expectant eyes on her face, hating the ruby red humiliation of being exposed.

When Mia saw she wasn't getting through to her friend she took both of her hands. "Some people, like you, will get good grades go off to an ivy league college and have a prominent career, meet the guy of your dreams and rake in a million dollars a year and other people, like me, have to bank on marrying a rock star."

"Please, he said not to come alone."

"That's not creepy." She murmured.

"Sara." Mia admonished whilst she stared shrewdly at her friend. "Do something adventurous for once."

Two hours later Sara was clothed in black jeans, black heels and her comfortable oversized black hoodie. She was shivering in the queue that formed round the block for The Devil's Claw, her dark hood pulled low over eyes to disguise her face in case her pastor drove by.

Mia chattered on about her mystery musician and the gleaming future ahead of them when Sara noted two men walking toward them, they were talking in low tones, one seemed to be coercing the other and she caught the end of their conversation. "C'mon it'll be easy chow, J."

Sara gritted her teeth as they stood almost toe to toe. The blond one, Keith, grabbed Mia and kissed her as if the cameras were rolling and Sara's brows shot up and she turned away vaguely embarrassed.

Mia had been right, Keith was gorgeous, tall and slender muscled with a tousle of blond hair and eyes a remarkable shade of pale grey. Yes, good looking and he knew it and it made her like him less than she already did.

Her cheeks were still pink when her eyes flicked to his friend, the guitar-player, he was also good looking though his head was shaved and light bounced off his high cheekbones and glinted from silver ring in his nostril. "You must be Jerôme." She said. "I'm Sara."

His eyes were green jewels like crushed emerald emitting facets of light, his stare was intense making her feel very young and completely out of her depth. She was instantly annoyed.

"Jerôme this is Sara." Keith chuckled under his breath and nudged Jerôme forward before returning to Mia's lips.

Jerôme grunted indifferently, his eyes moving away, it was clear he was not interested and she could only think if they made this brief she could probably get home in time to finish her calculus assignment. "Pleasure." She muttered thrusting fists into her pockets.

He ignored her for the rest of the time they queued and she struggled to ignore him, noticing from the corner of her eye his fingers twitch as if stretching across guitar strings and he swayed near imperceptibly back and forth to a beat in his head.

When they were ushered into the club they made a beeline to the back and Sara was intimidated by the dark, the press of bodies the fragrant stench of alcohol and sweat.

She saw Mia wave and disappear with Keith toward the couches pressed against the far wall. "You look frightened." Jerôme murmured his breath hot against her ear.

Before she had time to retort he was greeted enthusiastically by figures standing beyond the strobe lighting and he spun into the crush of bodies leaving her with gritted teeth and burning cheeks.

Loud, aggressive music blared from the speakers mounted in every corner. She tried to catch sight of someone in the crowd, it was hard to decipher the fullness of the features, the bodies, there were too many of them, but she saw enough to know they were beautiful and all too young to be mistaken for being twenty-one.

Someone, Mia, pressed a plastic cup into her hand and she drank it in one swig; it was bitter and not right on her tongue and making a face she dropped the cup to the ground and it was kicked to and fro by passers-by.

She tripped, pushed and shove to the ladies room and when she erupted into the room she was relived to find it empty. She gripped the porcelain sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses.

"Ever heard of contacts?" A girl asked materialising beside her with a mascara wand in one hand.

"Excuse me?"

"You should have worn contacts." The girl said again and used the tip of her wand to tap the lenses of Sara's right eye. "Are you here with Jerôme? Those things are a boner kill, you know?"

Sara strode out of the ladies room and the girl's mocking laughter followed her.

Her fingers curled into two fists in an attempt to defy the trembling that took hold of her hands. She was unaware she was being watched, deaf to the roaring music and blind to the bodies that shoved and pushed.

Cold fingers closed around her wrist and she was pulled off balance, colliding against the hard wall and staring up at jewel-fire green eyes. Jerôme's lips were parted and her eyes were drawn to the succulent lower lip and the glimpse of his lower teeth.

He braced one hand on the wall above her head and leaned in until she could feel his breath mist against her glasses. "You must be desperate coming in here." He whispered.

There was a split second before he spoke when she had been ready to dissolve into a pulsing hormone, her desires unable to move past his breath, his lips those eyes.

"You're fucking kidding." She muttered under her breath and ducked under his arm striding away from him. "It was nice to meet you." She said without glancing back raising her hand to wave goodbye.

Moments later she stood over Mia. "Mia, we've got to go."

Mia detached herself for a moment to gasp. "Not yet."

"Now." Sara said and her tone would brook no refusal; Keith glared up at her and for a terrifying instant his eyes turned silver with hatred.

"Where's Jerôme?" He asked huskily.

"No idea. Mia why don't you put your panties back on like a good girl." Grasping Mia's arm she marched them toward the car and drove her best friend home in silence. "You'll thank me when you're sober." She assured her as she slammed the car door.

Sara was shivering with rage; she sat for several moments trying to control her breath before she gunned the engine and drove back to her house. Stepping out of her car, she was glad for the silence of the night, the empty street in the sleepy neighbourhood. She headed up the paved path toward home, digging in her pocket for her set of keys that fell out of trembling fingers and she had to bend down to feel around in the dark.

When she stood she found Keith standing like a wall of flesh in front of her.

"Keith?" She gasped.

He didn't speak though his lips moved in soundless paroxysms and his grey eyes bore into her flaring into a bright silver radiance, like an animal throwing back light. She took an instinctive step backward and instant before he rushed at her.

Teetering on her heels she fell, a scream wrenched from her throat and she glimpsed through strands of her fringe, his face become inhuman, sharp teeth like twin sabres flashed in the darkness.

He fell on top of her, her glasses flew from her face, his hand took a fistful lof her hair and pulled forcing her to arch her throat to him and those terrible teeth struck, ripping into the flesh between throat and shoulder. He drew back with a hiss, her blood staining his chin in bright rivulets. She saw the look of pure white-hot hatred and fevered hunger as he prepared to lunge again.

She closed her eyes anticipating the impact of those eye teeth.

She felt…nothing, just an icy swathe of air and she opened her eyes, a shuddering breath erupted from her mouth.

The blurry image of Jerôme, though his jewel fire eyes remained bright enough to see even in the darkness, even without her glasses. He was towering above her and she watched whilst he knelt, gently replacing her glasses over her eyes and then he put his finger into his mouth and bit down to draw blood, she gasped as he smeared his bleeding fingertip on her shoulder and winced as his fingertip slid into the meat of her wound.

When he had coated her in blood he put his stained finger between his lips and sucked it clean. He stood and offered his hand and she found herself grasping it, frightened how small her hand looked in his, how cold his hand felt as he pulled her to her feet in one smooth motion.

She snatched her hand back from him. "Stay away from me." She said tremulously and ran into the safety of her house, slamming the door between them.

* * *

Miss S


	2. Fall

Four Flowers Part One: Iris

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

Vampire. The syllables looped over and over in Sara Desrosiers mind until they made no sense. _Vampire Vam Pire Vamp Ire Vam Pi Re Vamp I Re._

For nights after The Devil's Claw she spent her nights awake and her days in the waking nightmare of needle sharp eye teeth and Jerôme's jewel-fire eyes. Jerôme. The thought of his name made her shudder with fear and other things she was not willing to comprehend.

Her grandfather had always said _face your fears, girl_ and she had never known what it meant until the night she found herself, with fisted flyer in hand, approaching The Devil's Claw.

* * *

Jerôme had no designs on seeing Sara Desrosiers again until the night she walked back into the The Devil's Claw. _Stupid little human._ He thought acidly sensing her presence like a shimmer of crystal across the landscape of his mind.

She stood at the fringe of the crowd looking underwhelming in jeans, faded t and sneakers appearing deliciously vulnerable and very very human. He watched her fingers clasp together nervously, her eyes punctuated with dark circles scanned the crowd from behind thick rimmed glasses.

There was an alien braveness about the girl, no matter that he could smell her fear and see her uncertainty even from where he stood at the foot of the stage.

He moved toward her slowly taking time to study the motion of her hands, the spill of hair trapped behind her lenses, tickling at her eyelashes and how she pushed her hair away with impatient fingertips.

What a strange creature to narrowly escape death and then come to court it. _Stupid little human_, he thought more affectionately this time.

* * *

Defeat speared her breast when she couldn't see him, the strobe lighting fell across the features of the rockers and gutterpunks, making them look sickly and possessed. Her inner voice chanted _escape, escape, escape_.

Warm breath curled against the back of her neck eliciting a shiver from her petite frame. "What are you doing here?" He whispered against the shell of her ear. _Aren't you afraid?_ Went without being said. She was clearly very afraid.

_Escape, escape, escape_. "I was looking for you." She said and turned her face up to meet his eyes, those indomitable eyes, the colours of emerald and agate.

"I thought you weren't interested." He said his brows arching, his mouth mocking.

Her lips opened and closed, piqued by his tone, her cheeks flooded with colour announcing her shame. "I'm not." She said brusquely. "I just wanted to say…"

His eyes flashed and she gasped in fright. "Thank you."

A crooked smile found the corner of his mouth and it was tempered with disbelief and deep amusement. _Stupid trusting little human._

"So thank you." She said and a moment after she was heading toward the exit.

He was stunned and called after her. "Wait." The crowd converged around him, hands tugging him toward the thick huddle of bodies. He saw her pause at the threshold but she didn't turn. "You're welcome." He shouted.

He saw her hand raise in the air in a wave before she disappeared through the door.

* * *

Jerôme stared, dumbfounded and if he dared admit it to himself he was left disappointed by the brief exchange. He had never been captivated by a mortal but Sara struck him as bold and stupid and thoroughly fascinating.

Arms wove sinuously around his waist and he turned to see Jewel smiling up at him, her lips already rouged with human blood. "Who was that human?" She asked and threads of jealousy coiled her words.

He looked down into her bright eyes and wiped the blood from her lips with the pad of his thumb. "Just a girl." He said.

Jewel's eyes flashed silver, her nails dug vengefully into his flesh. "Did you fuck her?"

"Jealous?"

"You'd be breaking the law if you did."

"And you'd tell on me?"

"They should know better than to walk into a Lamia bar uninvited." She seethed, her teeth lengthening in her mouth.

He caught her lower lip between his teeth only to distract her from any designs upon Sara Desrosiers and the vampire became pliant in his arms.

"You hate them as much as I do, Jerôme." She sighed against his lips.

"Hmmm." He said but even as their mouths met in a kiss his eyes remained on the path Sara had taken out of The Devil's Claw.

* * *

Miss S


	3. In

Four Flowers Part One: Iris

_Never fall in love with a human._

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

It was the weekend before Christmas. The landscape should have been dusted in white and iridescent crystals of ice, it should have been snowing.

But it wasn't.

The night was warm, it was always warm in the West but despite the warmth Sara Desrosiers broke out in goose flesh.

Sara had lost the ability to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she was trapped inside The Devil's Claw with the press of bodies and roaring music; night after night after night…

The dreams bled into her life until now three years on she was sleeping through her undergraduate classes and walking out in the middle of midterms. "You need to relax, girl." Clary whispered in her ear as she eased the jacket from Sara's shoulders. "You're strung tighter than Ulysses bow."

Her heart beat heavy and burdensome in her chest until she could barely draw breath.

_Her pulse slow, thick and living in her tongue, as she queued at Café Verlet. 'Are you ready to order?' Miss? Hello? Are you ready to order? Are you deaf?'_

"It's a pool party, Desrosiers." Someone said and numbly she stripped off to her bikini bra and bottoms to the encore of wolf whistles. "Very nice." _Very nice_ dripped obscenely from the boy's mouth. "Want a drink?"

'_If you're not going to choose a drink I'm going to have to ask you to-'_

'_Coffee.' She said huskily. 'Black. Large.' Sniggers erupted from behind her back. _"A beer." Clary suggested and pressed the warm bottle into her hand.

"Try and have some fun, Sara."

She felt eyes as palpable as fingertips moving over her body. _Try and have some fun, Sara. _Sara escaped to the roof. _Do something adventurous for once, _those fateful words still ringing in her ears years after they were spoken. Everyone below was a blur of colour framed by the moon blue colour of the pool.

"Sara, what are you doing?" Someone shouted up at her.

Derisive and mocking voices revolved in her mind. _'Ms Desrosiers, if you'd care to join us on page 23.' 'Are you deaf?' _"You're fucking losing it." She murmured to herself and raised her face to the warm sky, taking deep steady breaths as thoughts continued to stutter through her mind._ 'You must be desperate coming here.'_

"What is she doing?"

"Sara, what are you doing up there, girl?" Clary called out and Clary's lyrical voice rang in her ears like a bell.

Then the chanting began rising up like incense in a church, sinuous and tantalizing. "Jump. Jump. Jump."

Sara closed her eyes.

_Jump. Jump Jump._

Her belly tightened as the vision of Jerôme flashed through her mind: _sucking their blood from his fingertip_.

_Jump. Jump…_

Her lips opened as if she were going to speak but a shuddering inhalation of air.

_You're fucking losing it._

"Sara-"

She jumped.

She couldn't draw breath as she fell and she felt relief at finally letting go; the wind roared in her ears as she descended and the icy shock of water was there to catch her at the bottom.

She gasped, water rushed into her mouth and a moment of panic seized her. Her bare feet touched the bottom of the pool and in an instant of startling clarity she knew had jumped because she wanted to drown, and as the thought solidified in her mind a pair of strong arms curled around her hips and pulled her upward.

When she brooked the surface it was to the sound of cheers.

She turned round in the circle of arms and blinked into a familiar face; though years had passed he seemed exactly the same and those eyes, jewel-fire emerald and agate had haunted her night after night after night.

Water rolled through her lashes, across her lips as she gasped for air.

Jerôme.

"Are you fucking fearless now?" He asked with a crooked smile.

She pressed her mouth against his and ran her tongue against the sharp point of his eye tooth drawing blood and he sucked her tongue and shuddered at the taste of her.

* * *

Miss S


	4. Love

Four Flowers Part One: Iris

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

Sara was dreaming of bleating sheep before she realised the baby was crying and rose in bed like the living dead fighting the soil of the grave.

She pushed away the hair from her eyes, swinging her feet to the ground she pulled her thick rimmed glasses over her eyes and dragged her feet to the nursery.

She loomed over the crib and stared down at the small writhing baby, cheeks flushed red and in exquisite distress. It was just a few weeks old. _It._ Sara still referred to _it _as an it and not a _she._

She picked the baby girl up and its crying grew louder, louder and louder; she rocked the baby in her arms and still it screamed louder. "Stop." She pleaded but the lump of flesh was indifferent to Sara's distress.

Sara began to cry.

She fumbled at the buttons of her shirt to free a breast to feed the baby, it quieted for a minute as it suckled, it's gums closed vengefully on her sensitive skin but then turned her face away and began to scream. Scream.

"Please-" Sara voice broke as she sobbed.

The baby continued to cry.

She noticed his silhouette in the doorway and wondered how long he had been watching her. "Take it." _It _ and not _she. _Sara thrust the baby into his arms.

He accepted the weight and eased it into the curve of his arm and rocked the baby back and forth. "I've got you, baby girl." He cooed and Sara resented how is presence calmed it. Its cries faded to small animal noises of wonder.

Sara's lips fell open, her breath hitched and she fled the nursery locking herself in the bathroom where she collapsed on the toilet putting her face in her hands and letting the tears leak between her fingers.

* * *

Jerôme continued to gently rock his baby in one arm. He placed a finger in his mouth and broke the skin on his sharp teeth before placing it to the baby's lips. She suckled happily for several moments and soon fell to sleep.

* * *

Miss S


End file.
